Chapter 5
KARA HATED THE IDEA of someone else driving, a control issue she’d developed after she’d broken up with Shane. Besides, she much preferred the SUV to Shane’s sedan, but she’d lost the coin toss fair and square.
“What do we know about Heather Underman?” Kara asked. She stared out the window, watching the large dollops of snow hit the glass and then melt from the heat of the car. It snowed in D.C., but nothing like this. For a second, she thought she’d missed the fluffy flakes.
“She’s worked for Cleary since his days in the D.A.’s office.”
“What did she do there?”
“A clerk,” Shane said. “When Cleary ran for office, she worked on his campaign, and then became his personal assistant.”
“That’s convenient.” And cliché, but there were truisms in clichés. “What else? How old is she?”
“In her mid-thirties. About our age.” Shane kept both hands on the steering wheel.
Not once did he glance over at Kara, which bothered her. “She’s essentially his alibi.”
“Yep.” Shane maneuvered the vehicle into a parking spot in front of a single-family home off Park Avenue. He leapt from the car and raced around the front before she had a chance to unbuckle.
And he hadn’t changed as he reached in, taking her hand in his.
“Always the gentleman.”
“Old habits die hard,” he said.
“What? No kiss on the hand?”
He tilted his head. “If you insist.” He pressed his lips against her cold hand. When he released her, he smiled.
“I don’t like the circumstances, but it is good to see you,” she said. And she meant it. There might be a lot of unresolved issues between them. They may always be unresolved, but seeing him wasn’t as difficult as she thought it would be.
“It’s good to see you, too,” he said, though he wasn’t as convincing. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and started walking toward the house. “How do you want to play this?”
“I don’t want to play it. Just let her tell us where she was on Thursday. Go from there.”
“Works for me.” Shane rang the doorbell then turned his back, hands still in his pockets. The Shane she remembered was outgoing and often a bit on the loud and obnoxious side. This Shane was different. He was quiet. Reserved.
“Yes?” A pretty brunette with legs that went on forever answered the door. She wore skinny jeans, and a tight sweater with a V-neck that showed off her cleavage.
“Are you Heather Underman?” Kara flashed her badge.
“Yes?”
“I’m Special Agent Martin. This is Detective Rogers. Can we ask you a few questions about last Thursday?”
“Sure,” Heather said. “Come on in.”
Kara followed her through a small foyer and into the living room. There was a dark brown leather sofa against the outside wall, with a big picture window behind it. Two matching chairs with ottomans were on the other side. The back wall had what Kara thought could be an expensive painting. Or a very good knockoff of one. She also noted that there were a lot of upscale Mackenzie Child products around the room.
“Can I get you anything?” Heather asked.
“No thanks,” Shane said. “We don’t want to take up too much of your time.”
Kara sat on the sofa, Shane to her right. Heather sat in the chair across from them. She fiddled with her fingers, an obvious sign of being nervous. “What did you do last Thursday?” Kara asked.
“It was New Year’s Day, but Congressman Cleary asked me to come in to go over some paperwork.”
“Do you often work holidays?” Shane asked.
“Sometimes.” Heather had crossed and recrossed her legs five times in the last three minutes.
“Anyone else go into the office that day?” Kara asked.
Heather shook her head.
“Do you have to sign in anywhere in your building?” Kara asked.
Heather nodded.
“So, when we check the logs, it will show both you and the Congressman signed in between…” Kara let her voice trail off.
“Look,” Heather said. “I was with the Congressman, but it wasn’t at the office. He was here. I can’t lie to you about that, but considering everything he and his family are going through right now, can’t we just go with we were at the office?”
“Not unless there is a witness other than you and the Congressman that can verify your whereabouts,” Kara said.
“You’ve got to be kidding. You think the Congressman, or I had something to do with Emily’s death?”
“Can’t rule anything out just yet,” Shane said. “How long have you been having an affair with Congressman Cleary?”
“Six years,” Heather admitted. “It works for us. I don’t want to ever get married, deal with a husband, or have children. He doesn’t want to leave his wife or kids.” Her shoulders slumped slightly.
Kara was a tad surprised that Shane jumped to the affair so quickly, but it stunned her how readily Heather acknowledged the affair. “Have you and the Congressman discussed being honest about where you were on Thursday?” Kara asked.
Heather nodded. “He would have preferred I didn’t admit to him being here. He wanted me to lie, but I know that would be worse, especially if you checked the log, and not just for me, but for him. He was here with me, all morning until his wife called. But I’m begging you not to tell Alice. I might be the other woman, but I don’t want him all to myself. He has a life with her and his kids and what they’re going through is just horrible. I don’t want to be the person who makes it worse.”
“Not our place to judge,” Kara said. “And we won’t advertise it, but this conversation will be in our report.”
“What about work?” Shane asked. “Any problems on the Hill? Arguing with any of his constituents? Strange calls? Fights with any of his staff? Anything out of the ordinary at all?”
“No,” Heather said. “I mean, there’s always office gossip, and he can be a bit of an asshole sometimes, but everyone mostly likes him.”
“Are you sure?” Kara asked. “Even the smallest of arguments can be something deeper. So, if there’s someone he’s in constant conflict with, please let us know.”
“Not that I can think of.”
“We appreciate your time,” Shane said as he stood. “Call us if you think of anything that might help us catch whoever killed Emily.”
“Will do,” Heather said.
Kara followed Shane out to the car. The snow had turned to freezing rain. “You get the feeling she’s hiding something?”
“Oh yeah,” Shane said. “When Cleary was D.A., most detectives secretly wished he’d slip and break his neck the way he handled most of the cases that came across his desk. No way is he that well-liked.”
* * *
“Do you think Alice Cleary knows her husband is cheating on her?” Shane asked as he pulled his vehicle into the Cleary’s’ driveway.
“Heather Underman doesn’t think she knows.”
“Not what I asked,” Shane said. Once he put the car in park, he raced around the car once again to open the door for Kara. It was a running joke between the two of them back when they were dating. He’d been a jock his entire life. He could be rude and crude, and what his friends would call socially unacceptable to the human race. But his freshman year, when he and Kara got serious, his father had a long chat with him about how to treat a lady. And Kara was a lady in every sense of the word. Sure, she was a tomboy and could keep up with him in any sport, but she was all woman, even back then. Shane’s father told him the secret to a lasting love life was the little things.
He’d done all those things and she’d still left him.
He opened the passenger door, took her hand, and instinctively kissed it. “Habit,” he said.
“You do that with all the ladies?”
“No,” he admitted. “Just seemed like the right thing to do with you.”
“You got so teased by everyone for that.”
“Yeah, well, I had the hottest girl in school. And doing things like that got me into your pants.”
She laughed. It was a soft laugh. Easy. Sweet. “You’re still a bit of an egotistical pig.”
“I was never a pig,” he said.
Quickly, they walked to the front door, freezing rain pelting them in the face. Cleary jerked opened the door before they could even ring the bell. He must have been watching for them. “You’ve got twenty minutes,” he said. His breath still reeked of whiskey. He swayed and stumbled a bit, the glass in his hand spilling dark liquid on his shirt.
Shane and Kara followed him through the foyer, up the stairs. Cleary stopped at the first door. “I haven’t been able to go in there since we found out.” He stepped back. “I’ll be right here while you do whatever it is you need to do.”
Shane pushed open the door and immediately he noticed the freshly made bed. Not a single toy or piece of clothing or anything on the floor. A far cry from what his son’s room looked like. There wasn’t a single poster of any pop star or teen idol on the walls. Instead, there were a few decorative pieces that matched the white wood trundle bed with a matching desk and vanity. The bedspread was a deep purple. The curtains matched.
Kara sat down at the desk and rifled through the drawers. She glanced at Shane and pointed inside one. A couple of folders were neatly stacked inside. The center drawer held pens and pencils, all in containers.
Shane made his way to the closet and pulled open the double doors. Cleanest closet he’d ever seen, with clothes carefully hung on plastic hangers. Shoes were in a couple of different hanging storage racks. Not a single object lined the floor. There were a couple of boxes on the top shelf. He pulled them down and brought them over to the bed. Kara placed a few items she’d found on the bed as well, then looked out into the hallway. “He must have gone into his room or something,” Kara whispered. “This does not look like a teenage girl’s room.”
“When you were fourteen, you had posters of some guy from that TV show you loved. Drove me nuts. You thought he was so hot. Kind of hard to compete with.”
“Yeah, well, you had a thing for Jennifer Aniston.”
“Still do,” he said. “Look at this.” He waved a book. “Found a few notes hidden inside.” He pulled them out and started reading to himself. “These are more like journal entries.” On the page, Emily wrote a lot about boys and things she’d done with them. Also, about drinking for the first time. “She was pretty worldly for a fourteen-year-old.” Shane showed it to Kara before taking a picture of it. “We need to take this, but not sure…” he flipped it over. “Hold that thought.” He tapped at a drawing of a butterfly. “Not really like the drawing on the body, but maybe there’s a connection to the killer and butterflies.”
“I’ve got the paperwork, so all he has to do is sign it for us to take anything we find in her room,” Kara said as she tossed a few more notebooks onto the bed. “More journals. They were under a couple of large books in the desk. Descriptions of sexual acts and she names this guy, Doug McCauley. She really likes to doodle. Ladybugs, butterflies, cupids, and I think that looks like a bong.”
“It does.” Shane went for the closet again and started looking through pants pockets.
“What are you doing?”
“Where did you hide your stash when you were a kid?”
“I never had a stash, and the only time I got high was with you at our Junior Ball.”
“Yeah, that didn’t end well.” Shane didn’t find anything. “She’s a little young for that kind of risky behavior.”
“Not really,” Kara said. “Remember when we were fourteen.”
“We weren’t doing what she describes. Some of what she describes I’ve never done.”
“Let’s get Cleary to sign off and ask him about this Doug kid.”
Shane followed Kara out of the bedroom and into the hallway, enjoying the sway of her hips. A little curvier than he remembered, but her ass still looked firm and squeezable.
“Congressman Cleary?” Kara called.
“Downstairs,” Cleary said, now standing at the bottom of the stairs with a fresh glass of whiskey on the rocks. “Did you find anything?” He swayed and slurred his words.
“We found some journals.” Shane took the steps quickly, then stood two feet from Cleary. The smell of alcohol was so strong it smelled more like pure ethyl.
“Journals?” Cleary questioned. “She kept a journal?”
“Looks like a diary. We’d like to read it and have our analyst go through it, looking for any clues as to what happened to your daughter,” Kara said. “If you could please sign this, we can take the journals into evidence.”
Cleary took a sip of his drink, stumbling backward, and bumped into the table in the foyer. “If you think it will help.” Cleary took the paper, putting it on the table, and scribbled his signature before waving his hand dismissively. “My wife will be home soon and I’d rather the two of you not be here.” His tone had gone from anger and rage to utter sadness and defeat.
“Do you know a young man by the name of Doug McCauley?” Kara asked.
Cleary opened his mouth, then paused, glancing at the ceiling before answering. “I can’t say that I do. Why?”
“Emily writes of him in her diaries,” Shane said. “Could you ask your wife about the name?”
“Sure.” Cleary pinched the bridge of his nose.
“I take it you have a cleaning lady or service?” Kara asked.
“My wife handles all that, but yeah. I think they come two or three times a week.”
“Do you know when they were here last?” Kara asked.
“I have no idea.”
“Could you get that information for us?” Kara asked.
“Ssuure,” Clearly slurred out the single word.
“We spoke with Heather Underman a little while ago.” Shane knew it probably wasn’t the greatest time to let Cleary know, considering his condition, but if he didn’t inform the congressman, it would most likely cause a different set of problems down the road.
Cleary drew his lips in a tight line, glaring at Shane.
“She informed us you were at her house that morning,” Shane said. “We can’t leave that out of our report, and it will make it difficult to completely rule the two of you out as—”
“You’re an asshole.” Cleary poked Shane in the chest.
He wanted to respond with a shove, but instead he fisted his hands and held his ground. “I don’t care who you’re sleeping with, I only care how it affects finding your daughter’s killer, so I respectfully suggest you think long and hard about what’s really important here.”
“I didn’t like you as a beat cop, and I like you less now,” Cleary said. “Get out of my house.”
“Thank you for your time,” Shane said, jaw clenched. “We’ll see ourselves out.”
The wind howled as Shane and Kara ran to the car, their bodies pelted with large, cold drops of wet snow. For a moment Shane thought about not opening the car door. He was falling into an easy, comfortable, and completely too familiar pattern with Kara. But it just wasn’t in his nature, so he walked with her to the passenger side and helped her in. He tried to tell himself that he was just being a gentleman, which he was, as he did this for his wife. But he didn’t do it for everyone. Certainly not fellow female officers.
“I’m impressed with how you held your cool with him,” Kara said.
He rubbed his chest. “I wanted to haul off and hit him square in the nose, but he’s so wasted I’m not even sure he’ll remember half of what happened this evening.”
“Emily’s room was way too neat,” Kara said as he started the vehicle and backed up.
“Makes me wonder if they cleaned it after she was found.”
“But why would they do that?” Kara had turned sideways, her gaze catching his. “What are they hiding? What don’t they want us to know?”
That was a good question. One Shane had no answer for.
It was well into the dinner hour. Jones had texted they were getting nowhere with Haughton and the second team was going to pick up the questioning. Time to call it a day. “Where can I drop you?”
“Mind taking me back to the precinct? Foster is going to wait for me.”
“Not a problem,” he said. “We’re going to have to let Haughton go by noon tomorrow.”
“We’ll deal with that tomorrow.”
The ride to the precinct was done in silence, which was nice because he had a splitting headache, though the sound of her voice might have eased that tension. Then again, it might have distracted him to the point where he’d be one of the cars in the ditch.
He rolled to a stop in front of the station.
“Please don’t get out of the car. I can open the door myself.”
He nodded. “I’m enjoying working with you. You’re a good agent.”
“Thanks. The feeling is mutual.”
He watched her step from the car, pulling her blazer over her head as she raced to the double doors. She turned and waved, then disappeared. He let out a long sigh. It was going to be a long couple of days, with her under his skin in more ways than one.